


The Falling

by angel_scoggins



Category: Mark Pellegrino - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Creampie, F/M, First Love, Kissing, Magic, Seduction, Succubus, Vaginal Sex, Wish Fulfillment, Witchcraft, with the magical rose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 06:04:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15212810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_scoggins/pseuds/angel_scoggins
Summary: When her life is at its worst, heroine ends up at her sister's wedding during a thunderstorm and offers shelter to a disheveled stranger who shows up. Only to be revealed to be a witch who offers her a magical rose in reward. When all the petals fall, the wishing will be over. And our heroine knows just where she wants to start off first.....





	The Falling

My sister was always the pretty one. The girl who tried out for and got on the cheerleading squad. The one voted prom queen. The one who went to New York and became a successful designer with the wonderful life and fancy apartment. So I wasn’t at all surprised when I got the invitation to the wedding that would mark yet another achievement in the wonderful life that was my sister’s. Meanwhile I had never left the town of Surry, Wisconsin. No social life. Never even been laid much, just a mostly sexless relationship and a couple one night stands.  
The only lucky break I ever got in life was that on the day of the wedding there came a hellacious storm none of the meteorologists seem to see coming. My sister, decked out in her gazillion dollar wedding gown and accompanied by her model good looks husband, had had to stop taking their adorable photos to flee back into the dry confines of the church. We were all pretty wet and miserable by then. Well, except for me that is. Wet. But decidedly not miserable.  
There came a loud knocking at the church door. The sound, hesitant at first but growing in its persistence, wasn’t heard by the rest of the crowd, so wrapped up in their empty bellies and the rather enviable chore of trying to control my sobbing sister. I found myself wandering forward as if in some sort of dream, not fully aware of what i was doing until I was standing in front of it with my hand hovering over the door knob.   
“What are you waiting for?”  
I turned to find my sister hovering behind me. Her mascara was smeared and the ornate vail she had been wearing was long since abandoned, revealing a rat’s nest beneath. I had never seen her look so normal before. And my heart secretly sang at the sight of it.  
A second later and the door was open, revealing the form of a hunch backed older woman wearing what appeared to be several layers of rags. She was clutching a cane in her hand, her head bowed against the torrents of rain pelting her fragile form. My sister gave a kind of disgusted snort, causing the woman to look up at us. Her face was a mask of wrinkles and dirt that seemed to be so stubborn that not even the downpour could scrub it off.  
“What do you want,” my sister asked in a none too welcoming tone.  
“Shelter,” the old woman told us. “There is no place around here for miles. I wish to come in.”  
My sister had a look on here face as if the old woman had asked to try on her wedding gown. “Nope,” she said after a moment. “We’re all filled up here.”  
She made to slam the door in the older woman’s face but I stopped her, grabbing her by the arm. “Hey, have a little compassion. It’s bad out there. And we have plenty of room.”  
My sister rolled her eyes and turned to make her way back to her adoring fan club in the center of the church. “Whatever,” she hollered over her shoulder.  
I turned back to the door to find the old woman had been replaced by the form of a beautiful woman dressed all in white. She had a faint glow about her like what I imagined an angel would have. Her hair was long and white, her face so stunning it made my sister look like a gremlin by comparison. My mouth hung open in shock and admiration. I felt as if reality had faded away and I was now in some kind of waking dream.  
“You have taken kindness on a stranger. A rare gift these days,” the angelic woman told me. She placed in my hands a red rose. I glanced down at it, feeling a strange sort of heat radiating off of it and seeming to sink into my flesh. “ And I am giving you one in return. This is a rose of giving. Whatever you wish shall be yours. But be careful, when the last petal falls the wishing shall be over. And nothing can be undone.”  
When I looked up to ask the strange woman a question I discovered that she was long gone.  
*******************************************************************************************************

I placed the rose on my nightstand and went back to watching my nightly binge of Netflix while I thought back on the events of the day. My sister had seemed to be in a much better mood as she and her hubby had headed off to the airport on their way to the Bahamas. On the flight back to my little nothing town in the middle of nowhere, I had held the rose in my hands and thought about all the things I would change in my life if I could. But all of it really came down to only a few real things I wanted to change in my life. Always the same things. In exactly the same order.  
The first thing I always did when I got into bed every night was take out my laptop and peruse my social media pages, all devoted to my some would say unhealthy unrequited love affair with the actor Mark Pellegrino. I had first seen the tall, blond haired sexy creature as the all powerful being Jacob on Lost. Then I had moved on to watching him on Dexter, The Tomorrow People, Castle, Supernatural and a host of other Tv shows and movies. I had even spoken to him a few times on Twitter and had met him for a photo op at a con once, all of which only heightened my infatuation for the man. Though there were times to be sure when I felt a tad bit embarrassed of myself that my sister was dating and getting married and no doubt headed to motherville when my entire life was devoted to an actor who more than likely didn’t know I existed.  
“I wish he knew I existed,” I told the rose from its place next to my bed. Looking at it, I could tell it had not fared well on the trip here. Already it looked to be wilting and missing some of its once pristine petals. “I want him to love me, too. I want what my sister has. I want someone to choose me for once. Not some other girl. Me.”  
I fell asleep wondering what that would be like. To have a man lay down and hold me like they did in the romance novels I read. Was Mark a lay down and hug you sort? And I laid there and thought back to all the pictures and gifs and blogs I had of him, trying to imagine the man behind all of that. Not the celebrity, but the actual man. The flesh and blood human being that cried when he was hurt or raged when he was angry. And I wondered where he was and what he was doing at this very moment. And if there was any place in his imaginings for someone like me…..  
********************************************************************************************************  
The first thing I became aware of when I opened my eyes was that I was no longer in my own bed anymore. And that’s a pretty frightening sensation to wake up, let me tell you. I stared about the strange bedroom for a moment before reaching over to turn on what I’d hoped would be a light. And when it came on I found myself gazing around a spacious room much more expensive looking than anything my bookstore employee ass could ever afford. We weren’t talking Wal Mart decor here.  
“It’s late. Turn off the light,” a deep voice grumbled from behind me. A chill went down my spine. I would know that voice from anywhere. I turned, and sure enough the man I had been lusting after for years now was laying next to me under the covers, looking quite sexy while sporting a rather epic case of bed head.  
“Uh.....” I wish I had said something for more sexy in that moment, but apparently when you fall asleep and wake up in someone else's bed for no apparent reason, it kind of robs you of any semblance of elegance.  
“Are you feeling ok, love?” Mark pulled himself up to a sitting position. I tried not to look at his naked chest and the nipples I had always wanted to feel beneath my tongue, but failed. “Still upset about the wedding?”  
“The...wedding.” My mouth was saying things but my mind just refused to go along with things. I had never been in bed with a man before. And certainly not THIS man. Fuck, he was sexy as hell. Like a damn majestic lion or something….  
To my suprise, Mark pulled me into his arms, pressing my bare breasts against his warm skin. I let out a sound halfway between and gasp and a moan, my pussy getting super wet and making some rather hard to ignore protests as the friction built where my thighs rubbed together. Hesitantly, because I really didn’t know what I was doing, I kissed him on his collar bone and rubbed along his side. His only response was to reach up and pat me gently on the head, much the same way you might comfort a small child, leading me to believe I had either done things wrong or maybe that even naked men in my bed might still have other places they had rather be.  
“You don’t know what’s going on in your sister’s life so there’s no point in comparing your life to hers,” Mark says, putting an arm around my shoulder. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, not even a sexual thing, but more like two life long friends discussing the various ups and downs of life. “You’ll only make yourself miserable. Not her.”  
“You just don’t know what it’s like to be the third wheel. Or not even in the picture at all. Like you don’t exist. Like nothing you do matters. Not to anybody. Like why bother, man, why bother?”  
Mark gazed up at the ceiling for a minute, collecting his thoughts. I could tell that he and I had had this conversation many times before, and what he was about to tell me he had told on more than one occasion. But he was going to tell it again. As many times as it took to get through to me.   
“That’s just self defeating talk. You talk yourself into failure. Why not talk yourself into success instead? You think we would have any of the advances we do today, the electricity, the medicine, the technology if nobody believed they had anything to offer the world?”  
I sat for a while thinking about that. Mark had swayed me on a lot of things online in his debates. He had a way of opening my eyes to things, not just because he was usually right about things, but because he was kind about things. He approached people the way one would approach a spooked horse, with calmness and with an apple in hand as a reward for a job well done. I found myself sinking into him, partly aroused beyond what I could stand without trying to blatantly hump the man and also feeling like I just wanted to sleep curled up safe next to him.  
Horny won out. I nuzzled Mark on the neck before planting several kisses on his skin. I made sure my breasts rubbed his arms, rewarded when a sigh left his lips and his arms went around me, pulling me in closer.  
“Was I that convincing,” he asks, a wide smile on his face. His blue eyes twinkled in the light cast by the bedside lamp.   
“You could convince me of anything,” I tell him, letting my hands roam over his body. I wanted to touch all of him. Taste and feel and explore him as I had done so many times in my imagination, hands moving underneath my bed covers back at home. He was so much bigger than me, and I found myself comparing the size of his large hands to mine, the way his skin felt versus mine. I had never been able to explore another person this way, though I didn’t feel brave enough to go beneath the covers. I didn’t have the self confidence or the experience to just grab for what I wanted. Not yet, anyway.   
“Careful, you don’t know what I might ask you to do next,” he teased, pulling me in to kiss me lightly, almost chastly on the lips. It was the kind of kiss a couple does when they’ve known one another for a long time. When every kiss given was not the tongue and passion fueled affair of newbie daters. But at this very moment that was exactly what I wanted. This whole thing was new to me, after all.  
I took Mark’s hand and placed it between my legs, letting his fingers feel what I was having a hard time expressing in words. His facial expression changed in an instant, the smile and joking nature quickly replaced with something a lot more feral and hungry. A thrill went through me, part pure sexual enjoyment and part fear since this was was such an unknown.   
He grabbed my by the chin with both hands and pulled my face close for a hungry open mouthed kiss. I didn’t know what I was suppose to do with either my mouth or my hands so I just let him take the lead, thrilling at the feel of his hands roaming over my body. It was so much more than I had imagined it would be and for the briefest of moments I felt saddened by having missed out on it for so long. But the feeling was quickly replaced by the growing heat between my legs as he pushed me onto my back and climbed on top of me.  
“What do you want me to do, love,” he asked me. “Tell me.”  
I found myself stroking his face, wanting to remember every inch of it. Nothing good had ever come into my life and stayed. And I wanted to do all the things I had ever imagined doing with him on all those nights laying alone, hands moving beneath the covers.. Wanted to feel his lips and tongue between working their magic on my hot, wet slit. But what I wanted at that moment most of all was to be one with him. Only him. So I parted my legs and grabbed his cock in my hands, rather clumsily trying to pull him down to my pussy.  
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Mark tells me, placing his forehead against mine. He’s breathing hard over me, his entire body coiled tight as a bow with need.  
“Please,” I beg him. “Now.”  
He kisses me softly on the lips as his cock brushes against my slit, his head rubbing my clit and making me moan against him. He toyed with me for a few thrusts, wetting himself in my folds before trying to push inside of me. It wasn’t easy, the pain of being penetrated after so long made me wince and he stopped, soothing me and stroking my face as the discomfort slowly subsided. Then he was moving inside of me and everything else faded away except the growing waves of pleasure inside of me. I screamed his name and clawed into his shoulders, begging him over and over again for something I didn’t quite understand. It was so much more than just to be brought to an orgasm. I wanted a release from everything I had been running from up to this point. All the disappointments that had come and gone. The years spent alone and looking out a window onto a world of couples and lovers and white picket fences. I wanted it to be washed away once and for all. By him. By Us.  
When I couldn’t hold back any longer from that moment I had been aching so long for, I arched my back and closed my eyes, feeling Mark go over that cliff with me.The feeling of his warm come filling me up taking me to new heights of pleasure, It was not a moment filled with screams of passion and nails clawing skin, but an acknowledgement of two beings connecting and worshipping each other on a level that didn’t require all the bells and whistles. It was a simplicity I found so deep and beautiful. And one I never wanted to end.  
“Thank you,” I told him as we lay together afterward, my head laid against his chest. I wasn’t sure why, but it seemed like the right thing to say to him. I got the feeling that, though I didn’t know how this had happened or even why, that he had somehow allowed it to happen. That this was not the work of some evil magic that had drawn him in like an insect to a web. And the thought gave me an inkling of relief.   
“I don’t feel sorry for you,” he tells me. I know I should be upset by this in some way, but I felt too removed my usual self, the girl who cared too much, who cried into her pillow at night because nobody wanted her. That girl did not exist here. “But I do feel for you. I know why you are the way that you are. But you could change it if you wanted to.”  
“How?”  
He took my hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “When you finally realize you aren’t in this alone.”  
********************************************************************************************************  
I thought about the dream I had had of Mark Pellegrino as I waited in line with everyone else to get a photo op with the Supernatural actor. Life had been going rather well for after the wedding. My sister had caught her husband butt naked on the living room couch with someone or other and she had lost her job after losing a major client and was now crashing at our parent’s house. And as for me I had finally gotten up the courage to send in some of my manuscripts to some publishing houses and in the next couple of months two of my books would be hitting the shelves. I had bought a new car and had upgraded from an apartment to a little house on the outskirts of town. I didn’t feel like the ugly, rejected failure anymore, not because I was loved by a man, nothing had changed since my wonderful dream about Mark, but because I had gone out and done something to make my life better.   
But something odd happened when it was my turn to get my picture taken with Mark. He was standing there in his dark pea coat, tall and regal and every bit as beautiful in person as he was on TV, but when he turned to me his eyebrows rose slightly and it was obvious he remembered me. I ran up to him, wrapping my arms around him as tightly as I could. He pressed his cheek against mine and for a moment I felt like I was back upon the bed, our bodies wrapped around each other and fueled by both love and need.  
I wasn’t aware of the picture being taken but I somehow sensed it had been and parted from our embrace to let the next person in line through. “How’s your sister?”  
I stopped in my tracks and turned. Mark had stopped taking pictures for a second, his eyes staring intently into mine. There was something about this moment that reminded me of the dream, the feeling that reality had been encroached upon by something that was other. Some might even call it magic.   
“She’s miserable. But I’m a published author now,” I told him.   
He smiled at me. A genuine, real smile that made me light up inside. Then the moment was over and he went back to taking pictures with fans. I wasn't aware of it then, but many miles away in the home I had just purchased there was hidden inside a moving box a long forgotten rose with only a few petals left upon its tiny stem. And at that very moment, the petals fell away into bottom of the box. I would find this out a few weeks later when I discovered the remains of the rose the stranger at my sister’s wedding had given me. And I would shake my head and laugh. But, deep down, I knew.


End file.
